


Choices

by AranthianPrincess



Series: Encounters at New Year's [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Deathly Hallows AU, Gen, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:51:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AranthianPrincess/pseuds/AranthianPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the eve of the New Year Draco finds the atmosphere at Malfoy Manor too oppressive and manages to escape from not only his parents, but the other Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. As luck would have it, or not depending on your point of view, he runs into Harry in the Forest of Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choices

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Choices  
> Pairing(s): Harry/Draco  
> Continuity: Deathly Hallows AU, not Epilogue-compliant  
> Rating: T  
> Summary: On the eve of the New Year Draco finds the atmosphere at Malfoy Manor too oppressive and manages to escape from not only his parents, but the other Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. As luck would have it, or not depending on your point of view, he runs into Harry in the Forest of Dean.  
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, and Warner Bros. This fan-fiction is written for fun not profit.  
> Warning(s): None  
> Word Count: ~3500  
> Author's Notes: An AU set during book seven just after Ron returns and destroys the locket Horcrux and before the trio visit Xenophilius Lovegood.

Draco had finally managed to escape. The atmosphere in his childhood home had become much too oppressive ever since the Dark Lord returned, only growing worse as he and his Death Eaters took up residence. It had taken him months, years if he was being honest with himself and counted from the summer when he got the Mark, to engineer an escape.

The air, freezing as it was, had never felt so good on his skin. Draco held this first small taste of freedom dear, labeling it all the more precious for it's brevity. There was no doubt in his mind that the Dark Lord's Death Eaters would eventually come for him. Once they found out he was missing he would probably have a few hours, a day at most, before they decided he had defected and he would be hunted down and brought back to his own home in chains. He only hoped his parents wouldn't be tortured too much for his rebellion.

Taking a deep breath, Draco turned away and left the cold marble manor behind him. He would have to hike to the edge of the wards, but once he crossed the boundary of the Malfoy lands he could Apparate somewhere far away from here. Draco reached the edge of the wards and stopped just short of crossing them. Once he did, his parents and the Dark Lord would know someone had left, but not who. That was why Draco had chosen tonight to flee. It was a night when Death Eaters were coming and going at all hours. He would be just a blip in the larger see of blips. Not odd, not different, but completely expected. Still, leaving his parents behind gave him pause.

Draco turned back. No one could see him in this copse of trees near the Malfoy border. It was a pity he was leaving just a few days after Christmas, but this year the holiday hadn't been particularly festive and certainly hadn't given him much pause when he decided to take off. Besides, the new year was just around the corner. A new beginning all around. Keeping this in mind, Draco sent his parents a mental farewell and stepped through the wards. As soon as he was clear of their influence, he vanished in a twist of Apparition and was gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Three days later and Draco was still on the run, breathing free air and slowly starving to death. Honestly, he thought he would have been captured by now. There had been a few close calls the first two days when he had tried to sneak into Hogsmeade and then Diagon Alley to get food. After those two narrow escapes, Draco had decided to take his chances in the wilds of nature and had Apparated to the Forest of Dean.

The forest wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be, providing him with plenty of firewood and not much else. Draco might not know how to properly start a Muggle fire, but he had his wand and magic on his side. So, using several Slicing Hexes and an Incendio Draco managed to start his own fire. He sat shivering next to the flickering flames, knees drawn up to his chest to help hold in the warmth. Not for the first time since he left Draco wished for warmer clothes than the ones he was wearing. Wizard's robes and a heavy cloak were all well and good if one planned on going back inside to a roaring fire sometime soon, but not all that great for roughing it in the forest.

Sometime during all the shivering he must have fallen asleep because the next thing Draco knew he was being poked hard in the side with the dull end of something. His first thought was that the Death Eaters had finally found him and, if that was the case, he wasn't going to bother waking up for whatever tortures they had devised for him. Unfortunately, the stick wielder had other ideas and prodded him even harder.

“Alright, alright! No need to get violent,” Draco mumbled, swatting at the offending object. He unfolded himself, coming face-to-point with a wand held by none other than the Boy-Who-Lived himself, Harry Potter. Draco groaned and let his head fall back against the trunk of the tree he had kipped under. “Of course, if it's not Death Eaters, it's you.”

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” Potter demanded, holding him at wandpoint over the ashes of what was left of Draco's fire. “Come to hunt me down and turn me in?”

“Are you really so full of yourself that you think you're the only thing on my mind, Scarhead?”

Potter frowned. “Then what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“Believe it or not, Potter, but I was actually trying to pull a you.”

“A me?”

“You know, disappearing without a trace from right under the noses of Death Eaters,” Draco explained disdainfully. “I thought I'd give it a try. Turns out Death Eaters don't much care for nature or forests. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to playing Which Way Am I Going To Die. My money's on freezing to death, but starving looks like it could be taking the lead.”

“What?”

Draco huffed out an annoyed breath and turned back on his side, ignoring Potter and the threat he posed. “Freezing and starving, Potter. They're only two of the many ways I could die. In case you hadn't noticed, the forest in winter is not the best place to go for survival. It's better than being tortured to death by Death Eaters, I suppose.”

“You really didn't think this through at all, did you, Malfoy?”

“It was rather a spur of the moment decision. When the opportunity arose to slip out unnoticed I took it. There wasn't time for anything else.”

“Food and shelter are kind of important, though,” Potter pointed out. He sounded shocked that anyone could forget such essentials.

“You're not one to judge, Potter,” Draco reminded him. “If it hadn't been for Granger you would be in just as bad of shape as I am now.”

Potter didn't comment, opting to move on to a different topic. He sighed like he was about to say or do something he was going to regret later, but was too noble to not go through with it. “Come on, Malfoy. Let's go.”

“Potter, if you're going to torture me or kill me or whatever, I'd rather you just did it here and got it over with. I have no desire to be entertainment for your little friends.”

There was a long pause during which Draco couldn't see Potter's face, but he could swear the saviour was frowning. “I'm not going to hurt you, Malfoy.”

“Oh, really? Then what are you planning? A picnic in the forest? Maybe a camping trip?”

Potter snorted. “I suppose you could say that. Technically, there will be food around a campfire and sleeping in a tent.”

This surprised Draco so much he actually sat back up and turned to face Potter. He was sure his mouth was hanging open with shock, but that was the least of his worries. Let Potter make fun of his comical appearance, Draco didn't care. He had just offered his sworn enemy food and shelter, Draco could gawk at him all he wanted.

“Stop gaping at me like an idiot and come on,” Potter huffed irritably.

He had dropped his wand to his side and turned his back on Draco, clearly expecting him to follow. If Draco had wanted, he could easily Stun the Gryffindor and drag him back to the Dark Lord as an apology for running away. For one brief moment Draco consider giving in to the urge to just bury his head in the sand and follow the Dark Lord blindly as his parents had done, but then he shook his head and dismissed the idea. There was a reason he had run away and he was not going to compromise himself by skittering back with his tail tucked between his legs to throw himself on the mercy of a sadistic mad man. Ironically, the person most likely to be able to protect him now was the very person he had just briefly considered betraying.

In the end, Draco stood without further protest, though his body didn't seem to have gotten that particular memo. His legs and back especially screamed at him for making them move from their frozen position. Still, the promise of food and a warm place to sleep overpowered his reluctance to force his limbs into action, so he went. Potter never once looked back at him as he led the way to wherever he and his friends had set up camp. Draco followed silently, unwilling to break the silence and possibly irritate the Gryffindor Golden Boy enough to leave him alone in the forest again.

They walked for what seemed like hours to Draco, but was probably only a few minutes. Draco was just getting ready to break his temporary vow of silence and ask Potter how much longer they would be walking when he felt the crackle of wards pass around his body and suddenly he was staring at a simple campsite. There was a roaring fire surrounded by gathered stones and a small tent Draco assumed had been enhanced with Wizard space. It was about as far from Malfoy Manor as a person could get, but Draco had never seen something so beautiful in his life. Then again, he wasn't often caught simultaneously freezing and starving to death.

Weasley sat by the fire, wand laid across his lap within easy reach in case of attack. He had something white and squishy stuck on the end of a stick and held to roast over the fire. Draco opened his mouth to ask what it was, but closed it again when Weasley glanced up and then did a double take, giving him a glare that could kill.

“Harry, what is that git doing here?” Weasley demanded, standing and pointing his wand at Draco. “The ferret didn't put you under the Imperius did he? Should I get Hermione? I'm sure she could fix it.”

Draco hissed angrily, offended by the Weasel's insults, especially the ferret one, but Potter put a restraining hand on his shoulder. The hand was warm, even through his clothes, and Draco had to stiffen his muscles to keep from leaning into him. That simple touch evoked emotions in Draco that should have been impossible. He had never felt warmth from a touch before, the kind of warmth that came from within and not just the physical transfer of heat from one person to another. And then there were the other feelings, safety, security, acceptance. There was something about Potter and that small, casual touch that completely threw Draco. Something he was more than eager to experience again, but later, after Potter had finished defending him to Weasley.

“No, Ron, I'm not under Imperius. You know that doesn't work on me anyway,” Potter said, standing just ahead and a little in front of Draco as though he were protecting him with his own body. “I found him in the forest. He was responsible for the smoke we saw earlier.”

“So you brought him back here?” Weasley shouted, rousing Granger from the tent. She came out to stand beside her ginger friend, silently looking back and forth between the three men. “He's a Death Eater. You-Know-Who probably sent him to find you and bring you back. It wouldn't be the first time.”

“If that was the case, Ron, then I wouldn't have made it back here at all. Malfoy had plenty of time to Stun me and drag me back to wherever _he_ is hiding.”

Draco had to catch himself quickly to keep from frowning at that comment. He hadn't realized Potter had noticed the temptation Draco had had to deal with. His moment of weakness was not something Draco was proud of, but he had to get some points for ignoring his first impulse. Right?

“Then he's spying for You-Know-Who!” Weasley was red in the face now and looked ready to explode. Granger put a calming hand on his arm, which didn't seem to settle him down all that much. Potter shuffled a few more steps to the side, completely obscuring Weasley's aim and sheltering Draco. “We should Obiliterate and Stun him now, drop him off at the edge of the forest, and move our camp. Nothing good will come of having that lying ferret with us. Mark my words.”

“I am not going to leave him to wander around the forest and freeze to death. Or starve,” Potter said, his voice like steel. “You don't know what that's like. I do and I will not be responsible for making someone else suffer that. Even if that person is Malfoy.”

Draco felt that tingly warmth spreading through his body again and it brought those feelings of safety and acceptance with it. He wondered where this side of Potter had been hiding all those years at Hogwarts. Could it be that it had been there from the beginning, but he was too caught up in Potter's rejection to see it? It was a riddle that would taunt him for the rest of his life, but Draco was happy to have a rest of his life in which to ponder it, all thanks to Potter.

“Ron, calm down,” Granger butted in at last. She had a stern, no nonsense tone that held just hint of reason. “We can't just let him wander around in the cold. He could die.”

“Maybe we should let him. It's not like he would have helped any of us,” Weasley mumbled. Granger elbowed him hard in the ribs so he doubled over gasping.

“I don't see any reason why Malfoy can't stay as long as he understands that he cannot leave without having a very thorough Memory Charm cast on him,” she said, staring meaningfully at Draco and pausing for his nod of confirmation. “And Harry will keep a close eye on him at all times. Won't you, Harry?”

Draco was beginning to understand how Potter and Weasley managed to get good enough grades to stay in school over the years. Granger was absolutely terrifying when she wanted to be and it didn't help that everyone knew she was the top of their class and did research in what little spare time she had. Draco half believed she could kill him and hide his body with no one ever finding out she had anything to do with it, let alone that Draco had been killed and not just wandered to another country one day. So it was no surprise when Potter gulped and nodded, eliciting a triumphant smile from Granger.

“Good. Glad that's settled. I'm going back to my research.”

She turned to go back into the tent, but Potter stopped her. Draco wanted to yell at him to let the scary witch leave, but kept quiet when he went to have a private word with her. Weasley was still giving him the stink eye. When he followed Granger into the tent, telling Potter he was on watch now, Draco breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Potter didn't seem to notice, settling down on the log next to the fire Weasley had occupied earlier instead.

“Come on, Malfoy,” Potter called, gesturing him over. “Let's get you something to eat. How long since you ate last anyway?”

“Er...” Draco had to think for a moment before he could answer, having forgotten how long he had been on the run. “About three and a half days, I think.”

Potter didn't say anything, just tossed him a sympathetic look that Draco had to look away from. There was the sound of rummaging and then Potter was holding out something covered in clear wrap. Draco took the offering tentatively, staring at it uncertainly.

“What is this?” Draco asked, trying his best not to sound condescending or ungrateful. Fortunately, Potter seemed to take it in the spirit he had intended.

“They're corn beef sandwiches Mrs. Weasley made for us,” Potter explained, continuing when he saw that Draco's inquisitive stare hadn't faded completely. “They're wrapped in plastic. Go on, they're not bad.”

“Not bad?”

“Mrs. Weasley is a great cook, but eating corn beef sandwiches every day for months gets kind of boring. It's better than starving to death, though.”

Draco couldn't agree more and tore at the plastic wrap savagely. Potter chuckled next to him, but Draco couldn't bring himself to care. There was food in his hands and that was all he cared about. No further sounds came from Potter as Draco dug in, ignoring his manners and taking large bites.

Silence engulfed them. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and Draco's impolitely loud chewing. When Draco finished and accepted a drink of water from Potter the Gryffindor suggested they turn in for the night. Inexplicably, Draco found himself growing nervous. He didn't know what Potter intended and it worried him.

Potter led him through the tent, which was indeed expanded with Wizard space, and into one of two rooms sectioned off from the larger main room. The room was simple with only a small side table with an oil lamp sat next to a single cot. Draco nearly choked when he registered the one cot in the room and what it must mean.

“I asked Hermione to move in with Ron in the next room,” Potter said. “I thought it would probably be better for all of us if you and Ron didn't sleep in the same room.”

“Thanks,” Draco muttered, eyes downcast.

“You can take the cot over there,” Potter told him, moving to stand by the little end table.

“And where do you plan on sleeping?” Draco couldn't help but ask.

Potter gave him a weird look, but didn't respond. Instead, he set the oil lamp he had been holding on the ground and pointed his wand at the table. A whispered word later and the table expanded into a duplicate of the cot Draco was now sitting on. Potter looked up and tossed him a triumphant grin.

“You'd be surprised how good you can get at casting a spell you used to be bad at when your life could depend on it,” he said.

“I suppose so.”

“Get some sleep, Malfoy. You look like you could need it.”

Potter turned his back to Draco, sitting on the edge of his transfigured cot and toeing off his trainers. Draco did the same, bending over to unlace his boots and pull them off before lying on his side, back to Potter. They lay in silence for several long minutes, just breathing. Finally, Draco gathered the courage to ask the question that had been plaguing him since Potter showed up and offered to take him back with him.

“Potter?” Draco called tentatively. He went on when Potter grunted his acknowledgment. “Why did you decide to save me?”

He could hear Potter turning over on his own cot, likely to face Draco and give him that determined Gryffindor stare.

“What else could I have done? Apparently, saving people is what I do, even if they are wayward Death Eaters.”

Draco flinched at the reminder, but didn't comment on it. Potter was only speaking the truth, not judging him for decisions he had made in the past. It didn't make the words hurt any less, though.

“Don't give me some general excuse, Potter. I want to know why you saved me on this particular occasion.”

Potter sighed. “Do you know what today is?”

Draco didn't know where he was going with this line of questioning, but he decided to humor Potter anyway. “No.”

“It's New Year's Eve,” Potter told him, pausing for a reaction from Draco. He lay still, waiting for Potter to continue, which he eventually did. “I don't know why I saved you today, if you can even call it that. I guess I couldn't just leave you there alone. There was something about the way you were huddled next to that dead tree that I couldn't ignore. It felt like a choice, between letting you die, which you likely would have if I had left you there, or helping you. Everyone deserves a second chance, especially at the beginning of the New Year.”

Draco was silent for a long time after that. Potter eventually turned back around and presumably fell asleep before Draco could gather his thoughts enough to respond.

“Thank you, Potter. I'll try not to let you down,” Draco paused, wondering whether he should say the next bit and decided to go for it since he had already said more than he ever would have before. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Malfoy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: I am really proud of this fic only because I finally managed to get a New Year's fic posted before the new year. So, excuse it if this story isn't the best in the series. It was definitely a rush job. Thank you for reading anyway!


End file.
